


Silent as Stones

by Rirren



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Sad, Stranded, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-07-14 23:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16050902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rirren/pseuds/Rirren
Summary: Lalli and Emil try desperately to get to the meeting point in time. But that's not what's worrying Lalli.Emil isn't talking to him.





	Silent as Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [straightforwardly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/gifts).



> Thank you to my beta-reader Izilen for helping so much!
> 
> Straightforwardly, this is super late but I wanted to do your amazing prompts justice. I hope you enjoy it!

Scratching through the walls, creaky voices pleading to be let in. He tried to remember that they shouldn't be able to get in—this was a safe sanctuary. It _should_ be a safe sanctuary. He skidded around the corner of Emil's childhood home, making another pointless loop.

There must be a way out—he _needed_ to get out to help Emil—but the house was a perfect unbroken circle. Even the entrance he'd come through had vanished.

"Emil! Let me out!" he screamed.

Nothing. Only thumps from behind the walls and ominous creaking.

"Emil!"

The wall smashed open and a wide circle of teeth closed in on him.

~*~

He snapped up into a sitting position, sucking in painful breaths.

"Emil?"

He scanned the room: peeling wallpaper, remnants of book covers and chair legs in a fading fire—all unfamiliar to him. And sitting propped up against the wall, gun held loosely in limp hands, his head back in sleep, was Emil.

"We made it," breathed Lalli in disbelief.

He crawled forwards, looking more closely at Emil. His face was smeared with soot or something, and he had a few minor cuts on his cheek, but he was somehow, impossibly, alive. They both were. Emil must have dragged Lalli out, maybe set a fire as a distraction from the look of him.

Lalli sat back. He'd let Emil rest—he'd need it after having dragged Lalli everywhere. Lalli would keep watch.

He stood up, and walked silently to the window. Pale dawn light bathed the world outside. Emil had taken them far enough that Lalli couldn't see any sign of the town they'd sheltered in—just a few squat buildings, rusting machinery and overgrown countryside.

Lalli started pacing the house, struggling to piece together what had happened. They'd been trapped in the house as the dusklings beat themselves against the walls. He'd tried to wake himself up, get back to his body and _help_ Emil … had he done it in time?

But he'd woken up on his back, like he'd been dragged there.

Lalli startled at a snort, and looked over to see Emil's body jerk, hands gripping his gun and eyes snapping open. He groaned something in Swedish that was most likely a string of colourful swear words. Lalli watched and waited for Emil to acknowledge him.

Emil buried his face in his knees, shoulders moving up and down as he breathed silently. He raised his head and combed his fingers through his hair a few times, leaving a streak of black dust, before standing up and walking to the window.

He didn't glance at Lalli once during the entire process. Even now he was more concerned with looking outside than the fact that Lalli was here and awake.

Was he angry that Lalli hadn't been able to help him? That he'd had to get the both of them out of there himself?

Lalli wrinkled his nose and said, "Thank you." No reaction. Oh, that was right. They couldn't understand each other anymore. " _Good job_ ," he said, remembering the few times Emil had tried to use the Finnish phrase.

Still nothing. Emil was definitely angry. Lalli turned away abruptly.

"I'm going to check outside," he muttered, and he didn't care if Emil understood him or not.

He slipped outside, breathing in the cool crisp air. He couldn't sense anything as he walked around, through overgrown grass wet with dew. The few neighbouring buildings were in such bad shape that none of them had intact roofs. Emil had done well to find this place.

He noticed a copse of trees not too far away, the perfect height for scouting, and he ran over. He jumped up and grabbed onto a lower branch and pulled himself up, climbing to the top and pushing his head above the leaves.

A tower of smoke was rising from a town in the distance, the wind carrying the scent. It must still be burning. Whatever Emil had done to get them out of there must have been truly spectacular. He turned in the other direction.

More ancient farmland, with a few collapsed buildings dotted here and there, and a motorway leading north crammed with rusted corpses of cars. They were still many kilometres from their destination.

He glanced down and froze as he saw a figure pushing through the tall weeds in the field, thinking for a moment that there was someone else out there. But no, it was just Emil, already on his way. He hadn't even waited for Lalli.

He scrambled back down, feeling so angry he thought he could punch a troll straight in the face if one showed up right now.

Emil stopped when Lalli ran up to him, like he'd noticed Lalli and was about to apologise, before he pulled out the map from his bag, looked at it for a second, then put it away and carried on walking.

Lalli kicked at a particularly ugly-looking plant but it stubbornly resisted his efforts to stamp it into the ground. Finally, he stormed away, leaving the plant swaying merrily behind him.

He didn't get any closer than ten metres for the rest of the day, running around Emil as a fixed point, constantly checking if there were any trolls close by, or if they were going in the right direction. Emil never spoke one word, just kept trudging forwards as if sleepwalking.

Lalli's anger faded further into simmering worry every time he looked over at Emil's dazed expression and how he barely picked his feet up from the ground. They weren't making much better time than when Emil had been dragging Lalli’s body.

Sigrun and the others might have already reached the meeting point. The boat wouldn't wait. Sigrun wouldn't wait. They must have already realised something had gone wrong when Lalli and Emil hadn't caught up within a couple of hours.

He tried to encourage Emil to go faster by running in front of him, signalling that Emil should follow his example, but Emil's pace didn't change. Maybe he couldn't go any faster. They had stretched out the minimal food supplies Sigrun had left them, and Lalli was used to getting by without food, but the starvation rations looked to be taking a toll on Emil.

"We need to stop for the night," said Lalli at what he estimated was the half-way point.

They'd stuck to the outskirts of any towns all day, and had reached a single house in an otherwise deserted wasteland. Lalli couldn't sense any trolls nearby—too far from the clusters of buildings they preferred to make their nests.

"Here," he said, running past Emil to point at the house. Emil kept walking for several dragging steps, like he'd gathered too much momentum to stop right away. "Here!" Lalli yelled, pointing emphatically.

Emil came to a stop. He tipped back his head and looked up at the sky. His eyes were oddly bright, and something inside Lalli clenched. Then Emil pulled out the map again.

"Look, we're here. And here's the pick-up point. We can't make it today." Lalli pointed at the different spots on the map and Emil watched silently. He glanced up, squinting at something in the distance before looking back at the map.

Finally he put it away and headed towards the house. Lalli followed. All the doors were locked, and Emil started kicking in the door before Lalli could offer to do it. It only took a few good kicks before the rotting wood split around the lock and opened up.

They both checked the house silently, and returned to the living room when they confirmed it was empty. Emil sank down to the floor, leaning against the decaying sofa. He pulled out a half empty water bottle.

"I'm not thirsty. No," said Lalli, because Emil was also carrying Lalli's water bottle. He was grateful when Emil didn't make a fuss and just drank his share silently.

Lalli perched himself on the window sill, face turned towards the outside but keeping Emil in the corner of his vision. Emil was pulling things out of his bag, and Lalli's heart sank when he saw how few fuel capsules were left. How many had Emil used in their escape? Emil put them back in the bag with a sigh. Obviously there would be no fire tonight.

They searched the house and Emil scrounged some blankets and clothes from the upstairs bedroom. They smelled musty with damp, but it was better than nothing. Emil piled them all on top of himself and Lalli lay next to him in the living room, watching him breathe, each time taking a little longer to open his eyes when he blinked.

The sky was lit up orange and black. Swirling smoke obscured his vision and screams shattered the air.

His eyes were streaming. He coughed deeply before spitting disgusting black phlegm onto the ground. He tugged the heavy burden as hard as he could, feeling like his arms would pull out of their sockets. It dragged along the ground, no doubt scraping against the rocks and gravel, but he couldn't slow down, couldn't drop it. He'd rather die than leave it.

He woke up fighting and kicking, convinced he was holding on to Tuuri, dragging her out of the dark sea, before realising he’d somehow manage to grab onto Emil in his sleep. Fresh sorrow stung him and he forced it down as quickly as possible, scrambling back and sitting up. Emil continued breathing deeply, still asleep despite Lalli’s violent awakening. But it was already dawn and time to go.

"Emil," Lalli called. "Emil."

Emil grimaced and curled up, retreating further under the mountain of blankets. There was a sleepy "Lalli?" from within and then Emil was crawling out. He blinked a couple of times in the light, and groaned before collapsing back down. He pushed his face down and clenched his fingers in the blankets, knuckles white. Lalli hovered awkwardly, thinking that this was a moment where a normal person would say something. But Emil got up before he had time to think of something.

Lalli followed as Emil picked up his bag and gun, and then searched the house fruitlessly for food. Lalli wasn't hungry but the pale, drawn look of Emil was worrying him.

Emil continued to act the same as yesterday: saying nothing and pretending he didn't notice Lalli at all. For a lack of any other cues Lalli did the same.

Not too long ago he might have been happy to have some peace without listening to Emil's chattering, the Icelander's pestering, or Tuuri's comprehensible but often annoying monologues. It would have been a welcome return to his night-scouting journeys back home, where the only person he had to worry about was himself.

But now that he had that quiet back he found he didn't like it. Somehow he missed Emil's attention, his little asides and the one-sided conversations he'd carried out despite neither of them understanding the other.

How long was this going to go on for?

Last time it had been Emil who had mended things. But Emil understood people; he got on with everyone, even Lalli. Emil's friendly chatter had covered it up before but now that he was suddenly silent Lalli's weakness was exposed: that he didn't have the slightest clue how to deal with people, let alone make up with them.

He looked sideways at Emil and then to hide it he ran ahead of him like he was busy looking out for trolls. Emil didn't react.

Maybe…

(and something icy clutched his heart)

Maybe Emil had finally grown tired of him.

Nobody stuck around him long. And Emil had been a little slower to catch on, but now, after dragging Lalli's body around for days and then getting abandoned to fight a horde of trolls on his own, he'd finally decided to cut Lalli loose.

The realisation burned inside him and Lalli clenched his fists. He took a few deep breaths of the chilly air, burying it under cold acceptance. He'd done this before, he could do it again. People left, that's what they did. Maybe this was a sign that all this had been a mistake—that he was meant to be alone.

Emil stopped suddenly and Lalli turned to see him staring at a large building not far off the road. The brightly coloured paint was still visible under the crawling vegetation that was growing around it—most likely a supermarket. Lalli squinted at it. Past the built-up cars and walls there were things scuttling around inside, voices whispering of food and safety, shelter and—

"Keep going," said Lalli lowly.

Emil's gaze didn't move. He muttered something in Swedish, and the way he patted his bag told Lalli it was something about the food they might find inside.

"It's not worth it." He tried using one of the few words he'd learnt for his reports to Sigrun. " _Danger_."

Emil watched for a moment longer before turning back and continuing the way they were going.

Lalli watched the sky nervously as they walked. The light grew steadily dimmer and the shadows of the trees lengthened. He could hear the soft sound of the sea lapping against the shore. They must be near now. Finally the road turned and they could see past the thick forest of trees obscuring their view. 

Barbed wire and solid concrete walls. Beyond that, intact roofs and the sea.

Emil's feet picked up and he started to run. Lalli followed him, crawling under the wire fence and squeezing through the partially closed gate. His eyes darted all around, spying into the buildings they ran past, looking for any signs of life—flickers of a fire lit inside, maybe.

Emil came to a stop where the platform met the sea. A wheelbarrow lay on its side by one of the buildings.

"Sigrun? Mikkel? Reynir?" Emil called, spinning and staring wildly around.

Silence. Something at the end of the pier drew Lalli's attention. He stepped closer, trying to make it out in the fading light.

Stones. Piled on top of one another in a way that looked oddly deliberate.

There were footsteps and panting breaths behind him as Emil walked over to see what Lalli was looking at. Emil made a soft exclamation and knelt down, knocking over the stones.

He pulled out a piece of paper lodged underneath. Lalli bent over his shoulder to get a closer look.

Six figures were clumsily drawn on the torn-out page of a book. Three of them were grouped together holding hands—one short and two tall with the same scribbled shoulder length hair. The other three figures stood on the opposite side—one with a long criss-crossed plait of hair crying inked tear drops. More hearts than Lalli could count were drawn on the page—around the figures and in every spare blank space.

Emil said something that was probably, "They left," and somehow Lalli was still surprised, even though he knew only stupid people would have waited this long for them.

He looked out at the empty black sea, searching for a sign of the boat. Nothing. They hadn't even been close. Emil pushed the palms of his hands in his eyes. The drawing, lying abandoned on the ground, was picked up by a gust of wind and carried out onto the water.

"We need to get inside."

The sky was a deep blue now, and the shadows cast by the buildings and trees were indistinct and large. Things in the dark would start stirring soon.

Emil bent over his knees, fingers clutching his hair, and a low despairing wail escaped him.

Lalli startled, looking around in alarm in case anything had heard that.

Emil was taking in gasps that sounded more like sobs, far too loud in the silence. Lalli squatted down next to him, and tried laying his hand on Emil's back.

"Please get inside." Lalli had no idea what he was meant to say but after a while—maybe the touch of his hand helped somehow—Emil stopped making that awful sound. He knelt on the ground, silent, and then he shivered. He looked up, eyes ringed in red beneath his fringe, and stared out at the sea for a moment, his expression empty, before pushing himself up.

They went inside the nearest building with the wheelbarrow outside. Emil sank into one of the bunk beds lining the walls. This was probably where the others had stayed while they were waiting for the boat.

Lalli sat down gingerly on the bed opposite. The air was oppressive, pushing him to do something, and several times he opened his mouth to say something before losing his nerve. He waited for Emil to speak up, but Emil didn't stir from his hunched-over position with his head in his hands.

After what seemed like an eternity Emil moved, finding two water bottles in his bag—one empty, and the other, Lalli's, only a quarter full. He drank the last of Lalli’s and let it drop to the ground, falling back on the bed with his hand over his face.

Lalli stared, and for the first time he felt truly uneasy. He waited—for Emil to apologise or tell him they would find more water tomorrow, _something_ —but Emil just turned over, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

Lalli turned around sharply, and burrowed his head into the mattress, blocking out the ragged wet breathing from the other bed.

Several times he woke from a dream, smelling sickly-sweet and coppery air, or hearing laboured breathing, but every time he got up Emil was sleeping normally. Finally he gave up and sat with his arms around his knees, staring across at Emil, unable to ignore the dreamlike logic of the night that Emil would somehow die if he looked away.

The idea seemed silly when dawn broke and Emil crawled out of bed, alive as ever. He looked exhausted and his hair was a mess—dark with dirt and grease, his fringe sticking up. Lalli twitched with the suppressed urge to fix it.

Emil made his way out into the base, Lalli following silently. He checked each building methodically, looking like he was still asleep—his eyelids low and movements sluggish. They found a lot less than Lalli had been hoping for, like someone had already cleared everything out: only four cans of unidentifiable food, more mouldy blankets than they could possibly need, and a radio.

Emil sat with a blanket round him in what was probably the control room, staring blankly at the radio. He rolled a can on the desk with his hand, forward and back, forward and back.

"I don't need it," said Lalli. "You can eat it all."

It was true. He should be but he didn't feel hungry or thirsty at all. Emil needed the food more than him.

Emil stabbed the can with his knife, carving out and peeling back the metal lid with shaking hands. He downed the lumpy contents in less than ten seconds, and only abandoned licking out the inside when he cut his tongue. He wiped his mouth and Lalli wrinkled his nose.

Emil set the other three cans carefully back on the desk—adjusting their position several times until it was apparently perfect, before licking his lips with a sigh and turning to the radio.

Lalli hadn't paid much attention to the radio in the tank; he'd never seen one back home and had just filed it away as another strange thing that probably ran on foreign magic. Emil looked like he might have a bit more of a clue though.

He was rooting around at the back of the massive radio, pulling at cables and then getting on the floor and following where they lead. Apparently to a big box thing. He flicked the switches on that, and when nothing happened went back to the radio and started pressing buttons there.

"For fuck's sake!" he shouted, or something close to that meaning, and slammed his hand against the wall.

Lalli bent down next to the big box, frowning at it, and reached out his hand. Something surged from him the moment he touched it, and the radio suddenly screeched. He let go and slammed his hands around his ears, Emil doing the same. When he looked over there were tiny wisps of smoke rising from the radio.

"What happened?" Emil probably asked, gingerly touching it.

Lalli didn't have an answer, and no matter what they tried they couldn't get the radio to respond again. Emil kept trying—walking to other parts of the base to pick up more wires and things to try to hook it up to, but after several hours even he admitted defeat.

Lalli looked up from the corner he'd been tucked away in when he heard a rustling. Emil was unfurling a map of Denmark out on the table. Lalli got up to look over Emil's shoulder.

"We started here," Emil muttered, or something like that, pointing at Malmö.

"That bridge is down now," Lalli reminded him.

Emil traced his finger over Zealand, across Funen, and up Jutland, then dragged his finger back and forth several times, trying to plan a different route. There was none. His head dropped.

"We don't have enough food," he probably said.

Lalli's stomach twisted. "We can hunt."

Emil's hands clenched into claws. He said something in Swedish with numbers, probably about how long it had taken them to get here with a vehicle, and then dropped his head, saying something defeatist like, "What's the point."

The hair on Lalli's neck stood up. Emil's despair felt like a physical thing, seeping in and drowning him. "You can't give up!" he yelled. Emil didn't move and Lalli turned on his heel, running outside.

It took running around the base multiple times before he felt calm enough to return. Emil had moved back to the building with the bunk beds and had set a fierce blaze going in the fireplace. He was picking pieces of fish out of a can when Lalli walked in.

Lalli glanced at him and considered mentioning they might need to ration that but the utter lack of greeting from Emil stoppered his words. He tried to think of what Emil would do if it was Lalli who was in a bad mood.

He sat down next to Emil on the bed. "We can survive in the Silent World. I've done it before." He mimed throwing a fishing line and gutting a squirrel.

Emil just blinked slowly and kept chewing.

When it grew dark Lalli curled up on the floor next to Emil’s bunk. He stared at Emil's hand hanging from the bed, worry eating away at him like acid. He kept his eyes fixed on that pale sliver in the darkness until he fell asleep.

Cold.

He was wrapped around something as cold as granite. Heat was leeching from his skin but he held on all the tighter, eyes squeezed shut. He knew he had to let go eventually but maybe if he held on long enough some of his warmth—some of his life—would transfer.

The chill was still clinging to him when he woke. He shivered, rubbing his arms briskly and then sat up. Emil was already awake, tying up his boots and swinging his bag on.

"Emil—" Lalli started to say, and then he scrambled to get up as Emil turned to leave.

"Where are we going?" he asked, running to catch up.

Emil didn't answer and kept walking. His expression today was somehow calm, like he'd come to a decision.

“Are we going to Malmö?”

No reply. Lalli brought his fingers to his mouth, biting hard at the nails. He followed. They must be going to Malmö. Where else could they go?

Emil retraced the route they'd taken to get to the base. Along the way he stuffed the bottles full of snow, drank the melted water, and opened another can of food to eat. He wasn’t much faster than before but he didn’t drag his feet, somehow determined, like he had a specific destination in mind.

They reached the halfway house just before sunset, and Lalli watched as Emil stacked broken furniture and books in the fireplace, and doused it in fuel. There was only one fuel capsule left.

"Shouldn’t we save that?"

Emil ignored him, setting off a spark and sitting back as the books caught fire. Lalli crept around to the other side, face burning from the heat. Emil leaned against the sofa and poked at the wood with a long metal stick. He stared into the fire, his expression empty. Lalli watched Emil instead, at the orange lights dancing in the dark room, shadowing and distorting his face. Lalli’s body gradually slumped further and further against the armchair behind him until his head was fully resting against it, his eyes still fixed on Emil’s still figure.

He dreamed of putting Tuuri to rest. He placed smooth stones on her feet, covering them completely. His hands shook as he moved to pick up more stones. Her body wasn't right … thinner somehow, like she'd withered away after death. He placed another stone and moved up, his hand sweeping across her bloody clothes.

Wrong. Wrong. It was wrong. This wasn't Tuuri.

His hand brushed against ash blond hair at the body's shoulders. A thin, pale face, peaceful in death.

Lalli jerked violently as he woke up, slipping down the armchair and hitting the floor. The room was empty. He looked wildly around and jumped up, sprinting out of the house.

He found Emil walking down the road a few hundred metres away.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Lalli demanded.

Emil didn’t even glance over at him.

"Answer me," Lalli begged. A buzzing was starting in his ears and he could feel the numbing sensation spreading through his body that always came when he got overwhelmed. "Why won't you talk to me anymore? Do you hate me?" He knew that was the wrong conclusion and he asked anyway.

His steps faltered and he came to a stop.

"Please," he called, barely a whisper. Emil didn’t look back.

They walked back along the same path. Lalli kept his distance, wanting to somehow punish Emil by staying away. Emil didn’t seem to notice. Something in him knew it wasn’t like that anyway. Emil wasn’t ignoring him. But he didn’t want to—he didn’t want to think about was really happening.

Then Emil strayed from the most direct route that would take them around Vejle Fjord, going instead straight south.

"This isn't the way we should go," said Lalli. "Do you hear me?"

Emil showed no sign he'd heard.

"I'm not going that way! I'm going to stay here until you turn around." Emil's steps didn't falter. "Right here!" Lalli screamed.

He sat down on the ground to emphasise his point and watched Emil's back as he walked away. It got smaller and smaller until finally it was swallowed up by the trees.

Lalli got up and ran after him.

"Stop! Emil, stop!" he grabbed at Emil's arm but it was like trying to stop a windmill with his bare hands. He let go and pushed Emil hard in the back. He couldn't move him even a centimetre.

"No…"

He fell back, staring at his hands.

He didn't want to believe it. It couldn't be. Why was he still here?

"Emil." He looked up at Emil's retreating figure, still pressing on to reach somewhere. "Tuuri?" he tried, looking around.

No-one answered.

He stuffed his fist in his mouth and bent over, curling in on himself. He could barely hear his screams over the static in his ears.

~*~

He caught up with Emil again. He didn't have anywhere else to go. Emil kept walking south towards the farm Lalli had woken up in. As they got closer Emil's calm composure faltered, his smooth stride breaking as his feet stumbled over nothing.

Lalli's uneasiness grew as they walked through the fields past the farm. He felt simultaneously repelled and attracted, eyes constantly returning to the woods at the edge of the farmland.

"Where are you going?" he asked, though he knew Emil wouldn't reply.

Emil's breathing was harsh and hitching. When Lalli looked at him he was shocked to see tears silently running down Emil's face. Emil made no move to wipe them away. Lalli kept his eyes fixed on Emil as he walked alongside him through the woods. The spindly branches tugged and scratched at Emil as he pushed his way through the tightly clustered trees. Eventually the woodland thinned out and they broke into a clearing.

"Lalli."

Emil sniffed—a wet, loud sound in the silent woods. His voice shook as he said,

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have signed up for this mission. I'm _useless_ … I only got you k—"

His voice broke and he sank to his knees, weeping unashamedly. Black footprints tracked across the ground in front of him, leading to it.

Everything else seemed unreal and hazy as Lalli dragged his eyes over to it—the mound of stones carefully placed, the blackened soil underneath, the crumbling charcoal wood. He wrenched his eyes away from the cairn.

"Why did you come here?" he asked numbly. "There's nothing here. _Why_ would you—?"

Emil crawled forwards and touched the stones at the base, Lalli's name barely audible through his sobs.

"Emil! Get up!"

Emil's hand clenched, scratching at the stones. He sat up. His face was a mess of tears and soot but his expression was calm. He reached for the rifle slung around his back and Lalli lunged forward, grabbing his arm.

" _Stop!_ " 

Lalli couldn't do anything, his hand tugged along as Emil unstrapped the gun. Lalli dug in his fingers as hard as he could and screamed.

"Lalli?"

Lalli's eyes shot open. Emil was staring down at his arm, eyebrows wrinkled.

"Emil!" Lalli shouted, and finally, _finally_ , Emil focused on Lalli's face.

"…Lalli?"


End file.
